Things my ranchsitter taught me...and my burros

I've always had a small bottle of roll-on fly repellent in my tack box to use around Lucy's eyes when we ride. 

Around here we call it "eye deodorant" because that's exactly what it looks like. Why I've never tried to use it 

on George and Alan before is just plain stupid. I assumed they would not tolerate me 

rolling this strange, smelly substance around their eyeballs. 

When Ranchsitter #2/#4//Danni was here and George came home without a fly mask for the umpteenth time,

she suggested we had nothing to lose by trying to train him and Alan to accept the eye deodorant.
And train them she did! It took all of one minute, two cookies, and no halter.

One half of a cookie is dispensed before the application to encourage their cooperation.

They've learned that if they stand quietly, the other half of the cookie will be their reward.

The repellent is oil-based and dirt tends to stick to it, but Alan thinks that makes him look macho.

A 2-ounce bottle costs about half the price of a fly mask and by my estimation 

will last about 100 times as long! 

George: Next thing you know she'll be having me wear mascara.

Thank you, Danni, for teaching me and my burros a few new tricks.

I knew it was too good to be true

It took Hank three servings of antibiotics on top of his food to decide he didn't want to play that game anymore. 

No problem. I was prepared to go back to my syringe-full of medicine method, newly improved and perfected 

thanks to the very smart readers who commented on this post. Forget everything I said and did then, 

because the following method trumps that and then some.

My new technique is similar, minus the coffee grinder, the applesauce, the cheese spreader, 

and the great big stinkin' mess I made all over my kitchen.

The champagne flute wouldn't even be necessary were I not trying to photograph the process.

I cut the tip off the syringe and widened the opening to about a half inch - big enough to drop in the pills.

I pour in just enough room-temperature water to cover the pills.

...then I stick my finger over the hole and shake the syringe until the pills stop rattling - about 10 seconds is all it takes.

Using the least amount of water possible seems to be the best approach.

The thicker the mixture, the better, so it doesn't spill out of the syringe on the way to the barn
or out of the horse's mouth once you squirt it in.

Then I squirt in a little molasses. It sort of looks like Bosco, don't you think? 

Please tell me I'm not the only one who remembers Bosco.

Where would I be without my chopstick? It's the perfect tool for stirring molasses 

into dissolved pill paste through the top of a cut-off syringe.

With my coffee grinder/applesauce method, I would end up with a full syringe of stuff that was difficult 

to administer in one squirt because my finger-span isn't big enough reach the bottom of the plunger when the syringe is full. 

With this method, there's less stuff and no muss or fuss.

Hank is doing fine, by the way. The swellings on his lower abdomen are barely there, though they seem to have relocated 

to his chest area. Our vet is not convinced we're dealing with dryland distemper/pigeon fever. We'll re-evaluate once the antibiotics run out.

Hank joins the clean plate club

I love you guys. I mean it. You offered up so many great suggestions and recipes on yesterday's post, I will forever be in your debt. 

Never in a million years would I have thought Hank might take his medicine if I simply mixed it in with a little feed. 

That method worked for so many of your horses, I had to try it.

Last night I mixed Hank's medicine with applesauce, spooned it over a bed of timothy pellets, then drizzled it with molasses. 

I've watched enough cooking shows to know the importance of presentation. 

I considered using a china plate or, at the very least, Fiestaware, then thought better of it.

Anyway, I took "dessert" out to the barn and Hank dove right in, much to Lucy's dismay.

Lucy: This doesn't seem fair at all.

Me: It's not polite to stare at Hank while he's eating.

Me: Beg all you want, but you're not getting any.

Hank: Is that all there is?

Me: Yes, except for that little bit on your whiskers.

We've got 22 more servings to get through before the antibiotics run out, and Hank might turn his nose up at the applesauce/molasses concoction at any time, but that's ok. I've got plenty more recipes up my sleeve now, thanks to you all. I can't wait to try the meds and jelly on bread. I'm thinkin' a nice sourdough, or maybe raisin... I wonder if he'd like English muffins?

A syringe full of applesauce helps the medicine go down

This story began about 10 days ago, but let me preface it by saying that Hank seems perfectly fine, he's not acting 

a bit sick or out of sorts, and I'm not freaking out about this too much, so I don't want you to either.

Anyway, Hank developed these symmetrical swellings on his lower abdomen. I've highlighted them in the picture below 

so you can see what I'm talking about. They don't bother him in the least, but they're not supposed to be there.

I called the vet and gave him the whole story. He wanted to start with some blood work. I drew the blood samples over the weekend. 

Hank's blood chemistry is A-OK, but his white cell count is low. The vet thinks maybe we're dealing with dryland distemper, maybe not. 

He recommends a two-week course of antibiotics as the place to start. I picked up the pills on Monday.

Which is the real point of this post. How does one give a horse "15 tablets by mouth twice daily for an initial 14 days"? 

I'll share my method in case any of you find yourselves in a similar predicament. 

And by all means, if you've got a better way, please share! I'm only on day two!

This is my arsenal of supplies, developed and finely tuned from years of experience I'd rather not have acquired.

A mortar and pestle is adequate for grinding up a few pills a day, 

but when you're looking at 15 pills twice a day, I prefer a coffee grinder. Call me lazy.

So you grind up the pills and set them aside.

Then you cap off a 2 oz/60cc dosing syringe with the top of a pen because you've lost the original cap,

and you add enough applesauce to fill the tip and then some.

This is where the champagne flute comes in. It's the perfect extra pair of hands to hold the syringe while you add
the ground-up pills. Scrape the pill powder out of the coffee grinder and into the syringe with a cute ceramic-handled cheese spreader
or equivalent. Add applesauce and a dollop of molasses and stir with a chopstick until combined. 

This next part is where it gets tricky...

With enough practice, you won't be wiping applesauce off the ceiling.

Then the real fun begins and you go outside, halter you horse, and squirt the contents as far back in his mouth as possible.
I have no pictures to show you of that part, as it requires two hands...actually three or four would be better.

At the end of my rope

Alan is doing so well with his leading in the comealong hitch that it's only a matter of time until he graduates to a proper rope halter. 

I wanted to be prepared for that moment so I decided I would make him one. How hard could it be to tie a couple of knots 

in a rope and turn it into a halter? I saw an ad in the back of Western Horseman magazine for a company that sold the materials, 

so I gamely purchased a $9.65 kit, consisting of the rope – 20 feet of a stiff, diamond braid 1/4" nylon  – and instructions.

If the instructions proved true, Alan would be wearing 

a spiffy Imperial Red custom-fitted rope halter in one to two hours.

The instructions lied. I studied the diagrams, I did exactly as instructed, I measured, I remeasured, 

I borrowed Hank's rope halter for inspiration. Two hours into the process,

all I had to show for it was one incorrectly tied fiador knot.

I was at the end of my rope. The black and white, two-dimensional instructions were of no help,

so I did what I always do in times of trouble...

I turned to Professor Google and found a couple of halfway decent videos that showed me how to tie a rope halter.

Smooch: You really need to stop with the swearing. It doesn't become you.

By late Saturday afternoon, now three hours into this DIY adventure, I had successfully tied what I believed to be

the hardest knot in the project - the fiador. Ripe with confidence, I went outside for the first fitting on the model.

Perfection. Thinking it would be all downhill from here, I went back in the house, resumed play on the video,

and sat there dumbfounded for three more hours, tying and untying, retying and almost crying,

and finally decrying tomorrow's another day. I'll try again once I'm fresh and caffeinated.

So Sunday morning dawns and I'm back in front of YouTube, with one eye on a knot-tying video 

and the other eye on Felix Baumgartner planning to freefall from space at 833.9 miles per hour.

Damnit! If Felix can break the sound barrier, I can tie a stinkin' rope halter!

The hours click by...Felix has ascended more than 128,000 feet tied to a balloon and I'm still trying to tie a double overhand knot. 

It was hard to concentrate. I kept running out on the porch to look up at the sky and see if Felix's balloon might be visible. It wasn't.

Anyway, Felix jumps and lands safely, and by golly I figured out how to tie the damned rope halter.

Thank you, Felix. You were an inspiration.

Me: Alan, are you ready to try this on?

It fits, it works, and all that's left to do is trim the ends off.

So the picture of Alan wearing his halter was going to be the last photo in this post.
Then I received an e-mail Sunday night from reader Auntie Em, who sent along the picture below.
Apparently she was in Roswell when Felix landed.

And look who else was there to greet him!

Thank you, Auntie Em. I was so busy tying knots I didn't notice the herd took a field trip.

Hay bale repair ~ a tutorial

You're looking at this picture thinking, "Awww, cute little bunny rabbit, how sweet."

I'm looking at it thinking, "You evil s.o.b."

You heard me.

This bunny and his extended family wreak havoc in my hay barn. 

I don't mind them grabbing a little snack now and then. 

There's a drought and I completely understand their need to eat.

But do they have to chew through the twine that holds the bales together? Grrrrrrr...

Over the weekend, I went out to the hay barn to assess my supply. I planned to restack last season's bales to make room for 

one more load of this season's hay. But before I could do anything, I had to restring all the bales the bunnies broke.

I came prepared with miles of extra twine and used every last bit of it undoing the damage.

I don't know if there's a proper way to restring a bale of hay, but here is how I do it:

If you're lucky, you'll be able to find each end of the broken piece of twine. 

Take a spare piece of twine and tie it to one of the ends of the broken piece with a square knot.

You know, one of those right over left, left over right, anybody-can-tie-it square knots.

Voila.

Now take the other end of your spare piece of twine and tie a loop at the end of it with another square knot.

Then thread the unlooped end through the loop! Easy-peasy.

Now pull the twine through the loop as tight as you can. 

This will involve much cursing, sweating, pushing and pulling, and wishing you had somebody around to help you, etc.

Crisscross the new piece of twine over the string that the rabbits didn't chew through and tie a whole bunch of any kind of knots you want – 

whatever it takes to hold the two strings together in the middle and make a handle that will allow you 

to gently pick up the bale and move it to its final destination.

Here's one more tip that might help you out in a jam, like when you lose your knife in the haystack.
Did you know you can cut open a bale of hay using a piece of twine? True story.

Take a spare piece of twine and run it perpendicular under the twine that's holding the bale together.

Pull each end up and start sawing away. The friction will break the twine around the bale in a couple of seconds.

Once I had all my hay restrung and restacked, the real challenge began – running the gauntlet to the feed room. 

At least the guards were all wearing their fly masks and I didn't have that to worry about.

The art and science of watering livestock in winter

If you're a horsekeeper and you live in a place where winter temperatures drop below freezing, then I would be willing to bet that your least favorite chore this time of year is watering. Dealing with the ice, the hose, the frozen hands... I shiver at the thought. I happened to be chatting with a reader this week about this very subject and she suggested I should blog about it. Hi, Sue in Montana!  In the years I've been horsekeeping in winter, I've learned a few tricks that have helped make this chore less onerous for me. I thought I'd share them with you today. If you've got any winter watering tips to add, feel free to shout' em out in the comments!

 

Location, location, location. Having a frost-free water source in close proximity to your water trough is a life-saver.

Having water-obsessed chickens to keep you entertained while you fill your troughs is a bonus.

It's also important to wear insulated gloves while using a hose in winter. Do as I say, not as I do.

Here I'm wearing my camera-using mittens, so my hose-hand is freezing. The sacrifices we bloggers must make...

I'm not sure what these hose-end valve things are called,

but I find they work better than nozzles year 'round for filling troughs.

The shorter the hose, the better – so very easy to drain.

Dad always says to use the right tool for the job. I've found that a hammer works best for breaking ice.

Here are some things that I've learned do not work as well: plastic manure forks, fists, pointy-toed boots.

It's best to do all watering during the warmest and sunniest part of the day.

You're more likely to have help.

Once all troughs, pails, and bowls are topped off, disconnect the hose.

Make it a habit and don't ever forget to do it. If you fail to properly drain the hose and the hose freezes to the spigot,

you will still be able to use the spigot to fill a pail and top off your troughs the hard way.

During the winter, I do not roll up my long hose. Instead, I take it for a walk and stretch it out to drain.

Eugenia and Minnie always accompany me. Have I mentioned my chickens are obsessed with water?

The yard slopes just enough to allow the hose to drain reasonably well via gravity.

When I know the overnight temperatures will drop really low, I take extra precautions to make sure the hose is completely drained.

This involves going back to the point of origin, raising the hose high above my head,

then slowly "walking the hose" until I reach the end.

When I get to the end, I can count on the chickens being there to supervise as the water drains.

Once the hose is disconnected and drained, I always cover the handle of the frost-free with a pail.

Freezing rain and snow can render the handle inoperable unless it's protected. (But if you forget this step,

I've found that a dishrag soaked in hot water, then wrapped around the handle, will thaw it out pretty quickly.)

 Access to fresh water in winter is crucial to an equine's health, so seeing my herd

slurping up the fruits of my labor makes me forget the freezing fingers.

p.s. This post came about because of a reader's comment. I am always looking for things to write about 

and your suggestions are most welcome. Leave them in the comments or send me an e-mail. Thanks!